


A Little Grace

by Khylara



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M, Peterick, Post-Hiatus (Fall Out Boy), Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:21:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22729054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khylara/pseuds/Khylara
Summary: Patrick has a secret.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31
Collections: Be My Peterick Valentine 2020





	A Little Grace

**Author's Note:**

> I adore wingfic and think there shouldbe more and more of it around, especially for FOB. This is for the be My Peterick Valentine's Day Challenge 2020.  
> Also, we have another fandom shoutout that's a little obvious.

There was a snow white feather sitting next to Pete's coffee cup.

He picked it up and turned it over in his hand. It was perfect, with downy barbs and rainbow tinted hooklets. _Beautiful,_ he couldn't help thinking. It reminded him of the angel cards his mom had sent out the previous Christmas.

"What's that?" Joe asked as he munched on his bagel.

Pete showed itto him, smiling a little. "Hedwig."

The guitarist shook his head. "Dude, you've been watching way too much "Harry Potter" lately."

"Bronx is working his way through the books," Pete said as he took out his wallet. He slipped the feather into the back of his son's school picture and immediatelly felt better. Strange what something so mundane could do.

Joe watched. "You're savng it?" he asked. "Why?"

Pete shrugged. "Why not? It reminds me of the wings the models wore when we did the Victoria's Secret show that time." Picking up his cup, he took a long sip. "Besides, we all need something pretty. Right?"

Joe just stared at him. "Since when did you become all zen and philisophical and stuff?"

Pete shrugged again. "Patrick must be rubbing off on me," he said with a smile, throwing a sugar packet at the guitarist when Joe snickered in response.

Meanwhile, Andy was sitting nearby, drinking his energy shake with an uncertain look on his face.

*****

Later that afternoon, Andy found Patrick brooding by the back of the buses. "What in the hell were you thinking?"

Patrick closed his eyes. "I know," he said quietly. "I shouldn't have."

"No, you shouldn't have," Andy agreed readily. He sat down next to the singer. "But I understand why you did it."

Patrick sighed. "It's just...he looks so sad," he said softly. "I know the tour is getting to him and he misses Bronx. I hate seeing him like that. It reminds me too much of how he was before."

Andy heaved a sigh as well. "Yeah." He ran a hand through his hair. "Just...why?"

"I don't know," Patrick finally said, looking up. "I just...I thought he needed a little grace."

"We all do." Andy's voice was soft. "On tour for so long, at this point we all need every scap of mercy there is." He leaned closer. "But you can't, trick. You can't and you damn well know why."

Patrick shot him a look that was so full of fear that for a moment Andy felt sorry for him. Once too many years ago Patrick had almost been caught. That night had led him to confessing what he was to Andy while also dealing with some serious nightmares. Even now he still looked over his shoulder, afraid of what might happen if he was caught one night alone. It was why Andy always stayed close to him whenever they were in a strange city overnight; the danger was far too real.

"It won't happen again," Patrick said after a moment. "I did learn my lesson the last time. I promise."

Leaning over, the drummer quickly hugged him. "I'm sorrt I scared you," he apologized. "But you know why."

"I know." Patrick let out another heavy sigh. "I fucking hate this."

"I know," Andy said as they watched the sun set over the arena parking lot. He had heard Patrick say the same thing too many times before. "I know." He paused for a moment. "If it helps any, Pete kept it."

Patrick straightened. "He did?"

Andy nodded. "It's in his wallet. Behind the latest picture of Bronx."

Patrick couldn't help smiling at that. _Close to his heart,_ he thought. "That...that does help, Andy. Thanks." He leaned back against the battered wooden picnic table, simply enjoying the dying sunlight as it played over his face.

*****

The next night, just as they were about to go onstage, Pete found another feather clinging to his guitar strap. He stared at it, frowning a little. Finding one feather was one thing; finding two was another thing entirely.

"Dude, another one?" Joe asked as he came over. 

"Yeah." He turned it over. It definitely was the same type of feather. It shone even in the dim light backstage, glistening with every color of the rainbow.

"Did you go somewhere this afternoon?" Joe asked, smirking a little. "Chicken farm maybe?"

Pete gave him the finger in response. "It was stuck to my guitar strap."

Joe peered over his shoulder for a closer look. "Pretty," he commented. "It's just like the other one. Isn't it?"

"Yeah." Pete tucked it into his vest pocket for safekeeping.

"You're keeping that one, too?" Joe didn't wait for an answer before he began his teasing. "You're gonna have quite a collection if you keep finding them. Are you trying for enough to make a pillow?"

"Go ahead and laugh, Trohman," Pete said as he adjusted his guitar strap on his shoulder. "But that feather just means that I have an angel watching over me, that's all." The two men headed onstage.

 _You do, Pete,_ Patrick thought as he followed them. _You do._

*****

The moment the show was over, Andy found Patrick hovering outside Fall Out Boy's dressing room. "Patrick!" he yelled, causing the singer to jump in response. "What the hell, man?!"

"I'm sorry!" patrick yelled back. "I didn't mean to! It just fell out!"

"Onto his guitar strap?" Andy countered and Patrick immediately ducked his head. "Damn it, Trick!"

"He deserves them, Andy!" Patrick yelled back. "He needs them! No one should be as sad as he's been lately!"

"Then you might as well tell him because at the rate you're going you won't have any feathers left!" he was about to yell more when he saw the look on Patrick's face and stopped. "Patrick...I'm sorry, man. I'm just trying to keep you safe. That's the only reason I'm sayinhg all this."

"I know," Patrick said forlornly. "But I'm just trying to keep him alive. Which counts for more?"

Andy stopped and stared. "Is it that bad?' he asked, his voice soft.

"Not yet. And he did promise that he'd tell me if it ever did get that bad again, but it could be," Patrick said, biting his lip. "I can't explain it, Andy. I just...I have a bad feeling about all this. You know?"

The drummer did know. "How do you know?" he asked. "Talk me through it."

"I can't. Not really," Patrick said, shrugging helplessly. "It might just be because it's the end of the tour. You know how he gets. He has to have at least six different projects going on at one time."

Andy folded his arms across his tattooed chest. "But you don't think so." It wasn't a question.

Patrick shook his head, tears in hs hazel eyes. "No, I don't," he said quietly. "And even if I did, I'd try to save him anyway. I love him."

Andy wasn't surprised by the admission; for all intents and purposes, Patrick had fallen in love with Pete on the day they met. The fact that it had taken him close to twelve years to admit it just proved how emotionally constipated they both were. "Patrick...you can't tell him."

"Why can't I?" Patrick retorted. "What if he was okay with it? With everything?"

"What if he isn't?" At Patrick's mutinous silence, Andy threw his hands up in surrender. "I'm just saying, Trick...you need to think long and hard about it. Once he knows, you can't not tell him ever again."

"I know," Patrick finally said. "I'll think about it. Okay?"

"That's all I'm asking." He clapped Patrick on the shoulder. "I just got you assholes back. I'd like to keep you for awhile."

Impulsively, Patrick leaned into Andy for a hug. "Thanks, man."

"Any time. Go get some sleep, for God sakes. You look like you use about a year's worth." He headed back to his bus.

Looking up at the moonlit sky, Patrick began making his way back to his own bus. _It's late,_ he mused as he walked, trying to remember what Pete had told him before going onstage. _He waa going out with Travis and Gabe,_ he finally recalled. _They were going to stop at "Angels And Kings" for a couple drinks. They'll be gone until dawn if I know Pete._ It would be safe enough for him to grab a shower unfurled and give his wings a good cleaning, he reasoned. Feeling a little better about things, he headed back to his own bus.

*****

Pete was working on his first beer when he reached into his back pocket for the wallet that wasn't there. "Fuck," he cursed under his breath. Granted, since he was one of the owners, he could technically drink for free, but he knew that Travis liked to eat at the greasiest diner he could find after a night of drinking. If he wanted to do that, he needed cash.

 _Back at the bus,_ he thought as he finished his beer in two swallows and told Gabe where he was going. _In my guitar case, where it always is._ A moment later, he stepped into the limo that had taken him to "Angels And Kings" and headed back to the arena.

The parking lot was quiet as he unlatched the bus door and stepped in. Faintly he could hear the sound of water running. _Shower. Patrick's taking a shower,_ he thought as he headed back to where he had stowed his bass. He was just about to grab his wallet when the bathroom door opened and he looked up, about to invite Patrick to go with him. What he saw made him stop in his tracks. Because not only was Patrick naked and wrapped in a towel that covered him from mid-chest to his knees, but coming out from his back, huge and magnificent and glorious was a pair of pure white wings.

"Pete?!" Patrick cried, nearly dropping his towel in his surprise to see the bassist. "I thought you went with Gabe and Travis."

"I came back for my wallet," Pete said, his eyes wide. The feathers were exactly the same as the ones that were in his wallet and tcked in his vest pocket. He was sure of it. _Beautiful,_ he couldn't help thinking, his heart pounding. _God help me...he's fucking beautiful._

Picking up another towel, Patrick began rubbing his hair dry. "You're not running," he said after a moment.

Pete suddenly looked confused. "Why should I? You're my Pattycakes." He offered a tentitive smile. "I know you won't hurt me, no matter what those are."

Patrick let out a heavy sigh. "Let me get dressed and we'll talk," he said, motioning for Pete to go wait for him on the couch. "I'll answer any questions you have."

Pete raised an eyebrow. "Any?"

Patrick nodded. "There's no sense in lying to you now."

"Okay. I'll just...I'll wait on the couch, then." Pete forced himself to look away, not only from Patrick's wings, but from the tiny beads of moisture still decorating his shoulders. It felt vaguely like loss, looking away. "Take your time." He offered Patrick a reassuring smile. "It's gonna be okay, Trick." He headed toward the front of the bus.

Patrick watched him go, his heart lifting at the sight. _Maybe? Please...please understand._ With that thought in his head, Patrick headed toward his bunk and clean clothes.

*****

Ten minutes later, Patrick came back out, dressed in his favorite denim shirt and with an uncertain look on his face. "Hey."

"Hey yourself." Pete moved over to give Patrick enough room to sit. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just nervous." He offered Pete a wan smile.

"Why?" Pete couldn't help asking. "It's just me."

"That's the point. It's you." At Pete's confused look, Patrick continued. "You're one of the most important people in my life, Pete. If this goes wrong..." He shook his head and turned away, but not before Pete saw the tears glistening in his eyes. 

Reaching out, Pete took his hand, squeezing his fingers. "And I told you, whatever it is...whatever you are...I'll accept it. You're my Pattycakes. That's what matters, not anything else."

A grateful smile crossing his face, patrick squeezed his fingers back. "Thanks. You don't know how much that means.' he took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "Go ahead. Ask me what you want."

Pete was silent for a long moment. Then he reached for his wallet and pulled out the shining white feather. "This is yours." It wasn't a question. When Patrick nodded, he pulled the other one out of his vest pocket and put both on the table in front of them. "And this one is, too. They're both yours." When Patrick nodded again he couldn't help asking. "Why, then? If you knew there might be a chance I'd find out about you, then why leave the feathers? Why take the risk?"

Patrick didn't hesitate. "You looked like you needed a little grace."

Pete's breath caught in his throat. What are you?" he asked. "An...an angel?"

Patrick smiled. "Partially. I'm human, but there's divine blood in there somewhere." At Pete's wide eyed look he continued. "It's old blood...from centuries ago. No one's quite sure where or when it came from, but every few generations, there's a baby born in my family that has wings."

"Jesus." Pete ran a hand over his face. "And you never said anything."

"I couldn't, Pete. Can't you see?" Patrick's voice turned pleading. "I'd be tabloid fodder for the rest of my life if this got out and so would my family. You and I both know that."

Pete heaved a sigh. He had suffered at the hands of the taboids after his breakdown and Ashlee's leaving. For Patrick, it would be a hundred times worse. "Yeah...I get it," he finally said. "So...just your family knows?"

"And Andy," Patrick added. "He got me out of a big mess years ago when I was young and stupid. Since then, I've tried to be a little more careful."

Pete nodded in understanding. "You said you gave these to me because you thought I needed a little grace." He waved a hand at the feathers and Patrick nodded yet again. "What did you mean by that?"

Patrick shrugged. "Just...you've been looking so sad lately," he finally said. "I've only seen you look like that once before." He gave Pete a look of his own before continuing. "And I don't ever want to see you look like that again. It scared me too badly the first time."

Pete sighed. "I'm sorry, Pattycakes. I didn't mean to scare you like that." He ran a hand hrough his dark hair. "It's just...you know how I get during the end of a tour. Been away from home and Bronx too damn long...strung out...too tired and wired for sound all at the same time." He heaved another sigh and continued, throwing caution to the winds. "Being too close to someone I love and not being able to do anything about it."

Patrick stared. "Me?" he asked, his voice a whisper. 

Pete nodded. "It's always been you," he said simply. "Always."

The two men looked at each other. "So what happens now?" Patrick finally asked. 

Pete looked at him. "You wings...can I see them again?"

Patrick began to unbutton his shirt as he stood up. "I need quite a bit of room," he said as he slipped it off his shoulders and put it aside. Closing his eyes, he gave himself a little shake and suddenly they appeared out of nowhere.

Pete couldn't help the gasp that escaped him. "God," he murmured, reaching out. "Can I...am I allowed to touch them?"

Patrick turned, extending them enough so Pete could run his fingers over the snow white feathers. "It's okay. You don't have to be careful," he said, smiling when Pete awkwardly patted them. "They're pretty sturdy."

"They're beautiful," Pete whispered. he looked up. "You're beautiful." He got up as well, taking a step closer. "Can I?"

Patrick nodded, his own eyes wide. "Anything," he breathed. "You can do anything."

Pete came even closer, slowly sliding his arms around Patrick's waist. He pulled the singer close. "I really want to kiss you," he said, making sure his intentions were clear. "Can I?" When Patrick nodded again, he leaned over and gave Patrick a gentle, careful kiss.

Patrick sighed as he drew away. "Pete," he breathed, his eyes flickering open. "Please."

"Beautiful," Pete said again, brushing a finger against Patrick's flushed cheek. "Patrick...angel baby...tell me what you want?"

Patrick closed his eyes again. "No one's ever called me that before,' he said. "I like it."

"What? Angel baby?"

"No." There was a pause. "Beautiful."

Pete resolved to call him that as many times a day as he could from now on. "Well...you are," He said. He ran his fingers over the feathers rising over Patrick's shoulders. "Can you fly?"

"There's a little too much of me for that." He paused. "Tried once when I was younger. Fell flat on my nose."

Pete couldn't help smiling at that as well. "You didn't answer my question," he finally said. "What do you want?"

For an answer, Patrick curled around him, laying his head on the bassist's shoulder as he wrapped his wings around them both. "This," he simply said, looking up. "You."

Cupping Patrick's face in his hands, Pete drew him into another kiss. _Perfect,_ he thought as the kiss lengthened and intensified. _So perfect...Patrick..._

They sank back down onto the couch, sill kissing each other hungrily. Patrick's hands plucked at Pete's vest and shirt. "Off...can I take this off?"

Pete quickly pulled both over his head and tossed them to the floor. "Anything else you want me to take off?"

A moment later he found himself flat on his back with Patrick straddling his lap. "Hi," he said as he put his hands on the singer's waist.

Patrick grinned down at him. "Hi."

"Never had a lap ful of angel before," Pete commented. "I think I like it."

"I know I like this." He leaned forward enough so that Pete could feel his obvious arousal. "I really want to ride you."

"Yes." He looked down. "You'll have to let me up enough for me to get my pants off," he said. "Yours too."

"I don't really want to," Patrick said even as he got up. "But I guess we have to be practical."

They were back on the couch a momet later. "God, Patrick," Pete breathed as the singer kissed his way over his chest. "Angel baby...please..."

"Love you...love you so much, Pete," Patrick murmured as he shifted, poising himself over the bassist's erect cock. Before he could stop him, he sank down, not stopping until Pete was all the way in. "Oh...God..."

"Patrick. easy!" Pete exclaimed, puting his hands on Patrick's hips in an effort to stop him. "We didn't..."

"It's okay," Patrick said a little breathlessly. "I...well...I kinda got myself ready while I was getting dressed." His eyes were bright in the bus' dim light. "I was sort of hoping this would happen."

Pete grinned. "You kinky bastard," he said, his voice full of approval. He sighed. "You feel good, angel baby."

"And you feel incredible," Patrick gasped as he began to rock up and down. "Oh...right there..."

"There?" Pete thrusted his hips upward, drawing a choked off cry out of the other man.

"Yes! There!" He groaned as Pete wrapped guitar callused fingers around his bobbing cock. "Pete...please..."

"I've got you," Pete crooned as he moved his hand in time with Patrick's hips. "I've got you. I won't let you go. I promise." He gritted his teeth; he could feel his orgasm building deep in his gut, just bubbling under the surface. Another few minutes, and this would be over. But he wanted Patrick with him. "Come on, angel baby," he whispered, his eyes never leaving Patrick's flushed face. "I'm here. I love you." He surged upward, twisting his wrist as he did so. "Let it go."

"Pete!" Patrick cried out, his entire body shaking and his wings flaring out as he came all over the bassist's milking hand. Letting out a low groan of his own, Pete managed one last shaky thrust bfore coming deep inside him.

Patrick fell against Pete's heaving chest and buried his face in his lover's shoulder. "Fuck," he managed to get out.

Pete managed a weak little chuckle. "Are angels allowed to curse?"

"This angel certainly does," Patrick remarked as he looked up. A hopeful expression appeared on his face. "Can I stay?"

Somehow, Pete knew that Patrick didn't mean just for now. "For as long as you want, angel baby," he said, his own voice soft, full of reverance. 

"That...that could be awhile," Patrick warned.

Pete's voice was firm. "It better be for fucking forever," he said, tightening his hold on the angel in his arms. "Because I don't plan on letting you go ever. I love you." The brightest smile Pete had ever seen lit up patrick's face, making him suddenly realize that Patrick had always been his golden angel. He just hadn't relaized it until now. 

Patrick leaned down for another lingering kiss before snuggling close. "I love you, too."

Briefly, Pete considered grabbing a blanket off the floor. They were naked after all and the bus was a little cold. But then Patrick banked hs wings over them both, encircling them in snowy white fluffiness. _Beautiful,_ he thought as he closed his eyes. _My Patrick...my angel baby_. He drifted off, losing himself in the promise of Patrick's love, Patrick's grace.


End file.
